


Deflowered

by Wooingsan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anxiety, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Sex, Biting, Body Worship, Bottom Kang Yeosang, Canon Compliant, Confident Choi San, Doctor Fish, Dom Choi San, Dom/sub Undertones, Flowers, Frottage, Hot Springs & Onsen, Jealous Kang Yeosang, Light Dom/sub, Lingerie, M/M, Massage, Neck Kissing, One Shot, Partial Nudity, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jung Wooyoung, Power Bottom Jung Wooyoung, Rainbows, Resort, Sassy Jung Wooyoung, Shy Kang Yeosang, Smut, Spa Treatments, Spa...Treatments, Sub Kang Yeosang, Switch Jung Wooyoung, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Choi San, Woosan, Yeosang Birthday Appreciation, Yunessun Spa Resort, affirmations, based on a real place, because they deserve a tag too, carnations, swimwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24767905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooingsan/pseuds/Wooingsan
Summary: He heard Wooyoung chattering to San excitedly as he eyed the snowy garments on the floor.He brushed the flower petals gently, pressing his palm flat against them to feel the soft edges underneath. He’d always loved his birth flower, even if other people called it “common” or “cheap”. He thought they were pretty and they smelled good.He got undressed.ORWoosan commission a florist in order to celebrate Yeosang's birthday at a mountain spa resort.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jung Wooyoung/Kang Yeosang
Comments: 10
Kudos: 234





	Deflowered

**Author's Note:**

> A birthday one-shot in honor of prince Kang Yeosang. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this exploration into the varying personalities that make up WooSanSang!

San had a friend in the flower district. They were the one that KQ contacted whenever they needed floral props, like the iconic flower crowns or bouquets to fluff up the set of a new music video. San had known them since middle school when they worked in their parent’s flower shop part time, just trimming the long green stems of floral displays in misty glass cooler windows. They stayed in touch through San’s pre-debut days and became a key connection in helping Ateez get off the ground. 

So, when San asked them for a custom order, they didn’t question it.

San wanted twenty one flowers, snow white, large enough to cover the exact dimensions he had written on a loose scrap of paper. 

They said, of course.

.:.:.:.

They were in the car. San was driving while Wooyoung bounced in the back seat and belted every song on the radio. He let Yeosang have the front, saying this was a rare gift given only for his birthday, and one Wooyoung wouldn’t give up for at least another year. Where they were going, he didn’t know. When San pulled him aside after practice yesterday and smiled that dimpley smile saying he and Wooyoung already had permission to take him on an overnight trip for his birthday, he could hardly say no. Wooyoung’s incessant jumping and loud cries of laughter spooked him, but San’s reassuring pets helped calm him back down. He smiled at them both, grateful they would plan something for him at all. It’s not that the other members didn’t want to come, but apparently Woosan had wanted to do something with him for a while and just never got the chance. 

Since joining Ateez, his usual birthdays have consisted of some messy, celebratory cake decorating where most of it ended up on Hongjoong while Mingi and Jongho sang “birthday sex” and made dirty jokes while Yeosang hid with his sweater paws behind a doubled over Yunho watching Seonghwa complain about the sugary explosion. The birthday sex never actually happened.

He wasn’t a virgin, but he had never done anything with any of the members. It seemed like they thought he was too soft, too sweet to be corrupted. Even when he told them about his past experiences it was almost like they didn’t believe him - or they didn’t want to ruin the pure image they had of him - and he was too shy to press it. He also worried that maybe they just didn’t want him. 

He knew what the others were doing in their free time. Hongjoong was quite popular, small and feisty and good with his mouth, so he heard Seonghwa say. Apparently San was good too but he only had eyes for Wooyoung, who seemed to have eyes for everyone else but got reeaaalll jealous when anyone else looked at San. Even the maknae was getting more action than him. He once walked in on a Yungiho three way, Jongho on his knees taking a dick at either end. He couldn’t help but be disappointed. He was trapped in a tight schedule with seven unreasonably attractive men, all variously attracted to other people who could’ve been him but weren’t. 

He especially liked his best friend. 

Wooyoung was so pretty, his smile so big and his hair so nice and he knew just what to do with eyeliner even though he didn’t need it, and he smelled so good, like ice pops in summer sun, and he was bratty but kind and his butt was so nice that when Yeosang was the big spoon he couldn’t stay snuggled up to him for long. 

He liked his best friend’s lover too.

But he wasn’t allowed. He knew that.

So when the smell of San’s shampoo or cologne or whatever it was that made his heart beat really fast mingled with Wooyoung and filled the cabin of the car, Yeosang had to roll down the window in the middle of June. They asked if he was feeling okay, of course, because everyone seemed to think he was cute and weak and shy like he needed someone to take care of him. They were kindof right and he hated it, but he didn’t know how to prove them wrong or ask for what he wanted. So he just said no, he wasn’t sick, just needed a breath of fresh air. Air before he became overwhelmed by their scents. Air before he couldn’t stop squirming against the seat buckle because he was too turned on to function. 

.:.:.:.

They had been driving through the mountains, sun filtering down on roads painted in the shadows of leaves, winding up and up. He enjoyed the feeling of Wooyoung’s fingers threading through his hair from the backseat as he argued with San, quippy remarks sprinkled with tolls of laughter. He loved it. He loved them. 

Suddenly, a clearing broke in the tree cover to reveal the side of the mountain. They were driving directly at a sprawling mountainside resort, traditional Korean architecture gleaming in the light. Yeosang gasped. 

Wooyoung bounced so hard that San had to reach back and place a hand on his knee. “Sangie! It’s a spa resort! Are you happy?”

Yeosang gasped again. “We’re going to a spa resort? On a mountainside?” 

“Yes! Do you like it?”

Yeosang had no words. He nodded.

San smiled. 

.:.:.:.

While San finished checking them in, Wooyoung swiped up the keycards and grabbed Yeosang by the wrist, pulling them toward their room. They had eaten on the road and it was already past dinner, but he still thought hallways were oddly devoid of people. Maybe they were all out in the pools. 

When Wooyoung opened the door the first thing he noticed was a private balcony, directly overlooking the forest below. He flew to it, dropping his bag and flinging it open. He stepped right up to the edge and inhaled. The air was fresh and clean, unassuming, so unlike Seoul. He breathed deep, closing his eyes to bask in the sun.

“Do you like it?” Wooyoung asked again, voice not far behind.

Yeosang nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

Wooyoung stepped up and wrapped his arms around Yeosang’s small waist.

“This was all Sannie’s idea. Make sure you thank him too.” He sighed, nosing the crook of Yeosang’s neck. “Oh, and there’s only one bed. We’ll have to share, is that okay?” Yeosang nodded again, too content. Wooyoung purred and hugged Yeosang tighter. “I’m so happy, Sangie.”

He heard the electric click of their room door and opened his eyes, only to see another set of hands grip the balcony on either side before he was being pressed up against it, San smooshing them both from behind. He laughed while Wooyoung whined. 

San laughed too. “There’s an even better view just like this from the resort terrace. Get ready and let’s go, baby boys.”

Yeosang paused at the pet name but had no time to think before Wooyoung was dragging him back into the room. Wooyoung ran to unzip Yeosang’s suitcase, pulling out a large box that he didn’t know was there. Then he pulled him toward the bathroom. “Sangie. You need to put on exactly what’s in this box, okay? It’s a special birthday gift, and it’s important to us that you wear it. It’s part of the evening.” Yeosang wanted to ask for clarification but Wooyoung interrupted, gently pushing him into the bathroom and handing him the box. “Oh! But be careful, it’s kindof delicate. You’ll know when you see it. If you need any help putting it on let me know,” Wooyoung sing-songed, closing the door between them. Yeosang stared at the wooden barrier blankly. He sighed at Wooyoung’s pushiness. It wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to, but it wasn’t usually so confusing. 

His breath caught when he removed the lid. The box was filled with white carnations, the scent exploding from the container. His nose watered at the potency. His eyes watered for other reasons. He didn’t know they knew his birth flower and he definitely didn’t expect them to care enough to remember it, but how was he supposed to wear them? He tried to pluck one out but realized that it was connected to another, then a third, strung together by a semi-sheer white mesh. He gingerly slid his hands underneath the bunch and lifted it out, spreading the collection across the tiled floor. He noticed long loops and realized they were straps. Then he realized the whole thing was a dress, or what was actually a really, really short slip, clusters of carnations strategically covering prime real estate. He stilled. How was he supposed to wear this in public? He looked back in the box for guidance and pulled out the last item, a satin white garter belt attached to some gauzy stockings with lace at the top. 

He cracked the door open.

“Wooyoung how am I supposed to wear-”

“Sangie!” Wooyoung chided. “What are you doing? Put it on. Oh wait, do you need help?” he asked, coming closer. 

Yeosang hid behind the crack in the door. “No! But I can’t wear this in public! People already might recognize us, and they definitely can’t see me in THAT! What if they take pictures?” 

“Oh, baby. We rented the place out for the evening. No one will be here, and they even sent most of the staff home. No one will see. Besides, look at what I’m wearing. If we go down, we go down together.”

Yeosang opened the door to take Wooyoung in. Wooyoung spun, covered in what looked like a whole roll of fabric, cherry folds criss-crossing his body before coming up to knot around his neck. A diamond of toned abs and back were left visible, the fabric just covering his nipples while cupping the bottom of his ass, holding his package snug and high and putting his muscular legs on display. 

Yeosang’s gaze snapped back up quickly. He saw San over Wooyoung’s shoulder watching them both.

“You rented it out?” 

Impatient, Wooyoung huffed. “Yes Sangie, now do you need help or not?”

San smirked and tilted his head. Yeosang had to tear his eyes away from him to answer.

“No, it’s okay. I got it,” he said, shutting the bathroom door. 

He heard Wooyoung chattering to San excitedly as he eyed the snowy garments on the floor. 

He brushed the flower petals gently, pressing his palm flat against them to feel the soft edges underneath. He’d always loved his birth flower, even if other people called it “common” or “cheap”. He thought they were pretty and they smelled good. 

He got undressed.

He began with the undergarments, sliding one foot through the stockings, then the other, pulling up the garter belt and realized it was open below the waist, only useful for keeping the lingerie on his body. He went back to the box, then lifted the flowers, thinking there must be underwear somewhere. Even a thong.

There wasn’t. He blushed.

Carefully, he picked the slip up off the floor, sliding it over his head. When it dropped into place it just covered the curves of his butt and the relaxed penis hanging loosely between his thighs. He desperately tried to pull the dress a bit lower, hoping maybe there were an extra few inches of fabric caught rolled into the flowers.

There wasn’t. He looked up at the mirror to check.

He almost choked.

He somehow felt utterly exposed, long legs shimmered in the light, white fabric glistening as he turned. The fabric hung low on his shoulders, thin straps turning into triangles, covering his nipples with a single flower each before flowing into a sea of mesh dotted with blossoms. There was a good cluster covering the outline of his member but not nearly enough to cover much of his ass. His wasn’t as big as Wooyoung’s, but it could still cause a problem. He lifted the hem up. He almost died when he saw his dick roaming free, somehow a little pinker, a little longer than when he looked at it last. He swallowed and threw the hem down. He couldn’t afford to grow at a time like this - every inch of hemline was precious. One last look in the mirror told him he might regret everything. He opened the door. 

He opened the door to Wooyoung straddling San’s lap, back to chest, legs splaying out to roll his ass back against San’s cock. 

Yeosang squeaked and slammed the door shut again.

“Yeosang! It’s okay! Come out! You were just taking such a long time and you know I’m impatient and San has these really hot shorts on and you know I kindof like to get caught and-” 

Yeosang flung the door open and stomped out, throwing his old clothes in a heap onto his suitcase. “Okay, are we leaving now?” 

When no one answered he turned around. 

San was stunned into the bed still sitting where Wooyoung left him, lips parted, hands limp on his knees. He was staring at Yeosang’s legs, slowly dragging up to the place just before his waist. Wooyoung’s jaw was hanging wide open, appraising the two flower tits adorning Yeosang’s chest.

“What the HELL Yeosang! You’re a literal babe! Why have you been holding out on me all this time?” He took a few steps closer, tentatively reaching out to touch the garment. “You’re so beautiful, Sangie.” He ran his hands up and down the front a few times. Yeosang squirmed. 

He whipped his head around. “San! Say something!”

San shut his mouth and put on his best eye-squinching smile. “He’s right, Yeosangie.” San stood up. 

He was wearing tiny white swim trunks, a half-step away from skin-tight, fastened in a bow with drawstrings at the front. They were small enough that the whole outline of San’s curled dick was noticeable. Yeosang thought that dick might accidentally fall down one of those leg holes until the tip peeked out the bottom if he wasn’t careful. He hoped it would.

He scolded himself.

San drew closer as Wooyoung continued petting his front. San came around back to assess the view, so Yeosang tried to cover his bum with his hands. San stopped him and he froze. He placed his palms on top of Yeosang’s hands, weaving their fingers together. San guided their hands down the sides of his hips, grazing the skin under the hemline with both of their fingers. Then he pulled them back up as far as Yeosang could go to swoop the swell of his cheeks, dragging them up just enough to jiggle when their fingers let go. Yeosang felt the vibrations go straight to his dick and he was so, so worried that his own tip would sneak out, seeking karma for his thoughts.

San drew their hands up to meet Wooyoung’s where they were currently settled flat against Yeosang’s tummy. His hands were sandwiched between them and he couldn’t stop staring until he felt a warm breath on the back of his neck. 

“You’re pretty, Yeosang.”

Yeosang lost his grip on reality.

Wooyoung giggled and went in, kissing Yeosang on the temple. “Sannie’s florist friend made it just for your birthday. It’s one of a kind,” he smiled encouragingly. “Ready Sangie? Let’s go.” Almost simultaneously the two stepped back, leaving Yeosang feeling more naked than ever. Wooyoung was quick to return, placing a pair of resort slippers at his feet. “They have SO many different kinds of hot springs and baths here! A bunch of them have themes, and they’re all really sensual. This place is known for the different pools with healing properties or skin benefits or aphrodisiacs or whatever, and they have indoor and outdoor rooms and waterfalls and a GREAT view, Sannie and I looked it up. And since no one is going to be here, we don’t have to share! Okay San do you have the towels?”

Yeosang was reeling, struggling to even put one foot in a slipper. He had to lean on a nearby chair for support. The moment he had them on, Wooyoung was dragging him out of the room again, San following closely behind. 

Wooyoung walked with purpose. He walked quick and assured and Yeosang wondered how he knew exactly where he wanted to go. He walked with so much purpose that his makeshift wrapped bathing suit couldn’t keep up, slowly leaking out the overflow of Wooyoung’s asscheeks from the bottom of the fabric. He heard San’s rumble of approval behind him. 

Suddenly they burst through a set of double doors, flying out onto an open patio. The space was capped by a vine-covered terrace, green tendrils hanging down lazily, mixed in with strands of outdoor twinkle lights. The space was partitioned by plant-covered half-walls which protected three small pools under the open sky. 

“Ta-daa~” Wooyoung trilled. He spun around to grab both of Yeosang’s hands. Grinning, he said “We’ll start here Sangie! Let’s get through every pool in the resort before the end of the night. Which one do you want to jump in first?”

Yeosang looked over his shoulder. 

“But… won’t the flowers get ruined?”

San came up beside him and put a hand on his back. “I had my friend coat them in a special sealant so they would last a little longer, but they’re only meant to last one night anyway. It’s okay. Don’t worry about them,” he smiled.

Yeosang nodded, disbelieving. 

“So...” Wooyoung prodded. When Yeosang didn’t answer he made the executive decision. “Okay, you don’t have to decide. Let’s start in this one - it’s the closest.” Wooyoung jumped into the shallow pool first, sitting on the edge and lifting his hand to help Yeosang lower himself in. 

“You want me to get my tights wet?”

“Yeah. It’s okay Sangie. Everything will be fine. Come on.” 

San outstretched a hand as well. Yeosang took them both, dipping one foot into the water to start. It’s warm and he’s instantly sated. He slid in quickly, snuggling up to Wooyoung’s side. San smiled at them both before lowering himself in as well.

Wooyoung wraps an arm around Yeosang, bringing him close. He uses the other hand to draw long lines against his arm in the water. 

“So, there’s more,” Wooyoung says.

“More?” 

“Mmhmm.”

“Yeosangie,” San calls, pulling his attention away from where Wooyoung’s tracing doodles. “For your birthday, we didn’t just want to take you somewhere new. We also wanted to let you know how special you are - to us, to Ateez, to our fans. When you hear it all the time it starts to feel a bit...empty. Am I right?” 

Yeosang nods, enamored.

“We just want you to know how appreciated you are, Yeo, so-”

Wooyoung doesn’t let him finish. “So we want to affirm you everywhere we visit!” Wooyoung grins, nuzzling into Yeosang. “And since there are so many different spaces in this resort, we can give you twenty one affirmations, one for each year of your life! Isn’t that cute?”

Yeosang snapped his mouth shut. He looked between the two wordlessly, feeling something curl in the pit of his stomach. He never thought birthdays were anything special until he became a part of Ateez, and now these two wanted to do even more, more than he ever could have asked for, or should ever be allowed. He opened his mouth to tell them no, that was unnecessary, before San cut him off.

“But that means we can’t spend too much time in each room. Also-” he leaned across the pool and put a hand to Yeosang’s collarbone. He flinched when San ran a finger down his chest, stopping at a carnation living just to the side of his bellybutton. He got caught staring as San moved his fingers, lightly pulling at the material. He felt the fabric draw away from his body, gently tugging him forward before San said, “The flowers come off.” 

He felt the mesh snap back to his abdomen, slowed by the force of the water. Yeosang jerked away, realizing he had unwittingly leaned in. Wooyoung smiled against his neck. 

He watched as San brought his hand up, palm cupping the delicate white flower as water rushed out between its petals. A few droplets remained to catch in the fading light. 

“This is made with exactly twenty one carnations - one for each year of your life.” He opened Yeosang’s palm and placed the flower inside. “You can leave each one behind along with something else you’d rather release, or forget, as a reminder of how far you’ve come. In return, we hope you’ll let us show you how glad we are that you’re with us, so we can share all the feelings of those who appreciate you but can’t say it, who might not speak our language, can never meet you, or can’t ever express their gratitude in any way. And we want to show you that we love you, too.” 

Yeosang couldn’t look at San anymore. His eyes stung. 

Instead, he looked at that small, delicate flower, layers upon layers of petals combining to form one big ball of scent. He cupped it with both hands and brought it to his lips, closing his eyes. 

Right now, all he wants is to forget his anxieties and trust Wooyoung and San. At least today, at least now.

He wanted to believe what they said. He wanted to feel loved.

He lowered his hands and let go. It floated, drifting in the tide between their bodies. 

A hand came to his cheek. He leaned into it, looking up at Wooyoung beaming back at him. Wooyoung squeezed Yeosang tight, grinning even harder. “Okay! That’s enough! Let’s get to number two. We have a long way to go.” He stood abruptly, warm water sprinkling down onto Yeosang’s head. He tried to shield himself with his arm but Wooyoung just laughed and used it to pull him out instead. “You’re gonna get really wet tonight Sangie, no point trying to fight it.” 

When he didn’t hear any movement behind them Yeosang turned to look for San. 

San remained in the pool, looking down.

Looking down at the very visible outline of his meaty package held under those now translucent white shorts. 

Wooyoung whipped around when Yeosang halted, checking to see what was wrong. When his gaze landed on San he inhaled a sharp breath and stopped cold. His grip on Yeosang’s hand tightened tenfold and Yeosang whimpered, trying to shake him off. 

“San! This is about Yeosang! What are you doing?!”

San crossed his hands in front of his member, looking guilty. “I didn’t know this would happen! These are new and I-”

Wooyoung let go and wrapped an arm around Yeosang’s waist instead, turning them around to keep walking.

“It’s fine. Yeosang, let’s just pretend that didn’t happen and San doesn’t have a fat beefstick and it isn’t literally out on display right now like clickbait. San, wrap a towel around yourself when we’re in transit, jeezus, you’re gonna burn our eyes and we’re here to do something nice.” 

Wooyoung carts them to the next pool and smiles at Yeosang apologetically. “Anyways Sangie. Forget that dick. So,” he clapped his hands together, “Bet you weren’t expecting all the planning we did, huh? Choose which blossom you want to take off next.” 

Blushing, Yeosang whispered, “But...If I take them all off I’ll be practically…...naked.”

“Oh don’t worry baby, San’s practically naked already and if we untied this thing it would unravel in a second,” he laughed, pointing to the knot at the back of his neck. “Besides, it’s nothing any of us haven’t seen on tour, right?” Wooyoung smiled, circling Yeosang. “If I may make a suggestion though, I would pick this one,” he said, pointing at the flower tit covering Yeosang’s right nipple. “A little nip slip early in the evening is good for morale, don’t you think?” He winked, pretending to flick the tuft. 

At that moment San sauntered up, towel wrapped around his waist, two pairs of forgotten slippers in hand. He dropped them at their feet.

“Perfect timing. Yeosang just picked the next flower, right? Tell him which one.”

Yeosang’s eyes went wide, looking from Wooyoung to San and back.

Wooyoung jumped in the water, wading to the other side and leaving Yeosang alone with San. He looked up at him and San smiled softly. “I’m sorry, Yeosangie. We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to. We can find another way to celebrate here - maybe order in some dessert and champagne, if you’d prefer something like that?” 

Yeosang looked across the water at Wooyoung’s back, vibrant red Xs accentuating the gentle definition.

He shook his head and shifted back to San.

“Wooyoung thinks I should choose this one,” he said lowly, pointing.

Yeosang heard San swallow. 

“Is that the one you want…?”

He hummed.

San moved close, leaving the towel knotted around his hips. He slid one hand against Yeosang’s back for leverage, the other grasping the flowerhead. “It’s all in the flick of the wrist.” As he twisted he caught Yeosang’s nipple underneath, teasing it as he worked the flower. Yeosang couldn’t help the soft “ah-” that escaped him when San pulled it off. He smacked a hand over his mouth and whipped his head to the side, hoping San couldn’t see his look of pure panic. 

Instead, San started rubbing his hand in the tiny circles of free space on Yeosang’s back. “It’s okay baby. Let it out. You’ll feel better.” 

Yeosang felt the anxiety curl in his gut. 

_No, no._ He just left his anxiety behind. 

He looked back to see the single white carnation still floating in the first pool. 

Yes, he left that behind.

Still rubbing his back, San said, “Look, the next one is all ready. You get to choose something else to let go of.” He smiled reassuringly as Yeosang took the offering in both hands, letting San guide him to the edge of the pool. 

When he looked up, Wooyoung was leaning back on his elbows at the edge of the pool, the corner of his mouth notched up, watching them. “Come here boys. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

This time, Yeosang let go of his guardedness. 

When he reached out to push the flower into the water Wooyoung grabbed his arm, pulling him close. Wooyoung seated himself in San’s lap, back to chest, and pulled Yeosang against him in the same way. Wooyoung purred, wrapping his arms around Yeosang’s chest, hugging him, trapping himself between them. When Yeosang lost his balance and started to float up, San pulled him in by his hips, fingers splayed between the nested appliques. 

“Sangie. We wanted to tell you how talented you are.” Wooyoung pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, right above the top notch of his spine. He lifted one of Yeosang’s arms, beginning to massage from shoulder to wrist. “You’re a visual, and you deserve to be one because you’re so, so beautiful. But what they say about visuals isn’t true. You have a great voice and you deserve more vocals and you make a great center.” He made his way back up, switching to the other arm. “We know we haven’t done enough to make that happen for you. We all get jealous and want more screen time, but we shouldn’t, not when it takes away from someone so special.” Yeosang leaned his head back on Wooyoung’s shoulder. Wooyoung took that as an invitation, angling himself to press quick kisses into Yeosang’s neck, jaw, and anywhere else he could reach. 

Yeosang loved it. He loved being close and he loved the attention. He didn’t know if he believed what Wooyoung said, but he wanted to. It was nice either way and he would let himself have it, if just for today. He sighed. 

He heard more wet sounds behind him. Wooyoung jumped with his lips to Yeosang’s throat, noiseless. He heard something soft and slow, and he felt Wooyoung reacting, tensing tighter before relaxing again. He imagined San was giving Wooyoung kisses too. Then he felt lips on his forehead where he knew Wooyoung couldn’t reach and he opened his eyes, tilting his head to look at the column of San’s throat, flexed as he pressed his lips to Yeosang’s crown. He retreated to bite the tips of Yeosang’s hair, nibbling on the ends and making Yeosang laugh. 

He was so, so lucky.

They moved through the last pool before finding the indoor waterfalls, showering Yeosang with compliments after he sent off anxieties number four and five.

When they got to number six, another waterfall overlooking the forest below, Wooyoung demanded they stand underneath it. He jumped in and motioned for the other two to follow. This pool was a little deeper, the water moving a little quicker, and Yeosang was less sure of himself. Yeosang looked down at his wet tights, water stuck between the fabric and his legs. He wiggled his toes.

“Would you like help, Yeosangie?” San smiled at him. “I can carry you to this one, if you want.” 

He didn’t need it, but he felt empowered and devious and a little self-indulgent so he nodded yes. San raised his eyebrows but quickly obliged. He swooped one hand under his knee and the other around his back, picking him up bridal style. San was just tall enough that only the hem of Yeosang’s slip touched the water. He knew his ass must be out on display, but Wooyoung was still trudging toward the falls and San couldn’t see. He wrapped his hands around San’s neck and inhaled.

“Yeosangie. I know you and Woobaby are best friends, and I know he kisses you all the time, but is it okay if I do, too?” 

Yeosang peeked up under his eyelashes. _Woobaby._

San wasn’t looking at him, and he wasn’t smiling either. 

Yeosang stared up in awe. San’s jaw was so, so chiseled, his cheekbones so high and his lashes so long as he looked ahead. The wet tips of his dark hair hung low around his ears, his bangs falling straight into his eyes. Yeosang wanted to lick him. He wanted to lick straight down that jaw and suck on the corner right under his ear.

San looked down and Yeosang jumped in surprise. “Yeosangie?”

His eyes went wide as he realized he was caught staring. He turned to look for Wooyoung. He found him dancing under the waterfall, arms up and twirling slowly, letting the warm water cascade over his hair and shoulders and arms. 

He turned back to San. “Yes.”

He waited.

He waited for San to do something, anything, but he seemed frozen, stilled, staring at Yeosang’s close, close face.

Yeosang shot a look back at Wooyoung’s dancing form before looking up again. “Sannie?”

It was as if two wires connected somewhere inside San. A smile crept onto his face and he leaned down, brushing their noses together. “Is it okay if I kiss you here?”

Yeosang smiled at the light touches. He nodded, and San pressed a tiny kiss to the tip of his nose. Then he moved, nosing along Yeosang’s turned cheek and temple. “What about here?” 

Yeosang nodded again. San kissed him there too.

San nosed farther down, doing his best to reach Yeosang’s jaw at this angle. He hoisted Yeosang up, readjusting, and Yeosang knew what he was looking for. Obliging, he leaned back, toes stretching out as he tilted his head over San’s arm, opening himself up. 

He heard San catch his breath. He peaked an eye open, just as San was drawing his mouth to Yeosang’s neck.

“Can I kiss you here, too?”

Yeosang tried to nod upside down. It didn’t work but San figured it out. He pressed open lips to Yeosang’s Adam’s apple, capturing it against his tongue. 

Yeosang couldn’t help it when he got a little breathy. He felt San’s fingers tighten where they held his stretched thighs as he kissed the knob over and over again. 

He was getting hot, pulling himself up, pressing closer to San, curling in towards his body when he remembered something. He opened his eyes. 

“Will Wooyoungie be mad?” San glanced up, lips still connected to Yeosang’s throat.

“We’re about to find out.”

Yeosang gasped and shot his head around, hoisting himself up so fast he almost pushed San down under the water. 

There, standing under the misty falls, stood Wooyoung, hair slicked back away from his face, stock still and gaping at the two of them. 

“Come here, _now._ ” 

Yeosang squeaked, clinging tighter to San. San let him hide against his chest. 

They stopped two feet away, close enough to feel the scattered mist on their skin. 

“First of all, what the hell!” 

Yeosang shivered, suddenly cold. 

Then, San laughed and Yeosang had to look up. Wooyoung was pouting, arms crossed. 

“Sangie,” Wooyoung chided, “where is your loyalty? You can’t let San one-up me like that.”

Yeosang couldn’t seem to process his words. 

“Second,” he said, walking down towards Yeosang’s feet, “nice ass.”

Yeosang flung himself into the water. 

.:.:.:.

The next few spaces went smoothly. This resort had three different “aroma” rooms, each filled with steam and places to sit that matched the rotating scents of the season. They were filled with ocean air, blue aloe, and sweet, juicy melon. Yeosang left a flower in each, along with his insecurities about his ability to produce music, make friends, and that one time he fought with his mom. In turn, San held his hand and Wooyoung smacked his butt as they walked, making sure to spread the slaps evenly and lifting the hem just enough every time, pursuing when Yeosang danced away in embarrassment. They entered each room and inhaled deep and slow, just breathing, until he felt fingers run down his arms or up to his neck. The longer they traveled the more he felt himself unravel, looking forward to their caresses. 

They ended up at their first “unique” pool, one filled with green tea instead of water. Wooyoung insisted he let him wash his hair, placing him on San’s lap while he worked from behind. Yeosang was nervous. His legs were spread outside San’s, and their foreheads were touching. He looked down, trying to see his nude genitals sitting atop San’s tiny white shorts but he failed. The green tea was just a little too opaque. 

He couldn’t see it but he felt it. He chewed his lip. 

San caught it under his thumb. “Shh, Yeobaby. It’s okay.”

Wooyoung dropped a handful of cold tea on his head.

_Yeobaby._

.:.:.:.

In the sauna room Wooyoung insisted on giving him a leg massage, making him stand up against San while he dropped down and worked, hands tenderizing his calves while San kissed his shoulders and slid his fingers under the lace at the tops of his thighs. 

Yeosang left behind pretending that he didn’t really, _really_ like lingerie.

After that was the coffee bath, connected by two pools, where they affirmed his sense of humor and his sarcasm and his charm before Wooyoung had a little too much fun passing the diluted caffeine into San’s mouth with his own, which you were DEFINITELY not supposed to do but he did it anyways and told Yeosang not to worry because all the pools were freshly brewed, enough to the point where he gave up the pretense and put himself on San’s thighs, body rolling against him in the dark water. He moaned, a lot, pulling at the hair on San’s neck. He moved a hand up to his red cherry tie but San stopped him. “Woobaby,” he managed between Wooyoung’s fierce kisses. “Woo. Not now, baby.” Wooyoung, exuding horny impatience, collapsed onto San. 

“You know what’s next right,” San hummed, fingers strumming against Wooyoung’s back. 

Wooyoung lit up. “The fish!” He jumped off of San and grabbed a dejected Yeosang nearby. “They have the doctor fish here Sangie! Let’s go!”

Yeosang slipped on the tiles with how quickly they were moving, wet tights sliding underneath him. 

San jogged quickly behind, dick all too visible and practically bouncing free. Yeosang had to turn back around. 

When they got there Yeosang realized what they meant. The doctor fish were the ones that ate the dead skin off your feet, exfoliating and tickling them at the same time. There were three small pools, all fairly close together, each teeming with a different color. Wooyoung ushered him to the spigot where you were supposed to first cleanse your feet.

“Okay Sangie. Here’s where we have to take off your tights.” He snuck a hand under Yeosang’s slip and yanked him forward by the garter belt. “You obviously can’t have them in here. Sannie?” San sauntered over, towel wrapped back around his waist. “It’s slippery in here so I’ll help hold Sangie steady while you help take his stockings off, okay? You need to start with the garter belt.” San knelt and Yeosang backed into Wooyoung. “What’s wrong baby?”

Yeosang turned to him, panicked. He wanted so badly to fall back into his comfort zone, to curl up and hide and not let him do what his body wanted. But he gave that up. He let it go. 

He would let himself have this.

“Don’t be shy. It’s just Sannie and I.” He spun Yeosang back around.

San looked up at Yeosang, waiting for confirmation. Yeosang nodded. Even though half the flowers were gone, he had chosen the ones that covered the least important areas, leaving several to cover his front and back and the lone tuft on one nipple. The other two hadn’t been able to see the various positions Yeosang’s dick had found itself in, cultivated like herbs in the sun. So when San hoisted up the hem of the slip, he realized he had to keep lifting and lifting before he finally uncovered the whole, snapped straight up under the edge of the garter belt. He had been worried that Wooyoung and San would inevitably notice as it engorged. He was so, so embarrassed to be this turned on in the middle of the nice things they had planned for him.

San was speechless. Wooyoung gasped.

“Oh Sangie… is that what you didn’t want us to see? Don’t ever hide that from us baby.” Yeosang whimpered. Wooyoung nipped his earlobe. “Sannie is going to have to touch you a little, is that okay?”

Yeosang was mortified. He put his hands up to hide his face. San recovered, pulling Yeosang’s hands away and placing kisses in the palms. “Hold it, okay? That will help.” San guided Yeo’s fingers to the band of the garter belt. San had him hold it out away from his body while he worked on getting it unclasped. Wooyoung held the slip up, fully exposing Yeosang’s V-line. Yeosang turned his head to complain but Wooyoung caught his mouth, silencing him with a kiss. Yeosang jolted back, staring at Wooyoung with wide eyes. 

Wooyoung smiled, big and bright. It was familiar. It was safe. It was reassuring. 

“Okay, done.” Yeosang looked down. He didn’t know how San had finished so quickly, but the stockings were already pooled at his ankles. “Can you lift this foot, Yeosangie?” Yeosang did as he was told. One, then the other. 

When he finally pulled them off he stood slowly, dragging the tip of his middle finger along the outside of Yeosang’s long legs, ankle to the upper thigh, all the way up his hip, as far as the raised hem would allow. When he cupped the back of his thigh, Yeosang trembled. 

Yeosang scrunched his eyes shut as he felt San’s breath on his ear. And then nothing happened. 

Nothing happened.

He opened his eyes to peek. 

“Thank you, Yeosangie.”

Surprised, he tilted his head to the side and San surged, lips connecting with the very corner of Yeosang’s mouth. Yeosang jumped in surprise and San was quick to pull away, lips dragging against his jaw. It was unfamiliar. It was dangerous. It was exciting. 

“Do you feel better?” Wooyoung smiled.

Yeosang nodded dumbly.

“Great!” He dropped the hem. “The fish look hungry. Let’s go!” He gave Yeosang a pat on the butt, urging him forward. San dropped his hand to let them pass. 

The fish were swarming the edge even before they sat down. Wooyoung plunged in the tips of his toes, laughing as the fish circled rapidly. He pulled Yeosang down by his wrist to join him. 

The fish drowned the first flower instantly and Yeosang didn’t like that. He left the next two on the mosaics to the side. 

As they moved again, Yeosang realized he was oddly used to his state of undress. Maybe it’s because no one else was around, or maybe it was because of all the touches and soothing words marinating him from both sides. They all washed their feet after, slipping in suds as Wooyoung pulled them both out quickly. 

They dashed out into the open night air, the sun having just set behind the mountain peaks. The sky was streaked navy and plum, pin-prick white stars beginning to poke through. 

Wooyoung kissed him.

He leaned in and touched his neck and kissed him like it was a rite of passage.

Wooyoung, content, grabbed the hem of cloth and tugged, encouraging him to follow. He found himself among the roiling steam of the open air hot springs.

He hid three lost dreams among the stacked rocks, releasing body insecurities and jealousy toward the other members and all the mean things people have said about the birthmark by his eye.

Wooyoung collects him, holding him in his arms and rocking back and forth. San hums. The sound melds into the rush of burbling water as he kisses the tips of Yeosang’s fingers. 

Flower nineteen belongs to the sake bath. 

San kept an arm slung around his hips on the walk, squeezing when Yeosang started to shiver as the air began to chill. Whenever Wooyoung paused ahead, San would pull him in. He threaded his fingers through his hair, swirling around his ears, down his neck, tap-tapping on his sharp collarbones. He whispered sweet nothing against Yeosang’s ear, rubbing their hips together as he leaned in. Yeosang let his palms fall on San’s toned chest, almost running his pads against San’s pecs. Almost. _Almost._ Yeosang presses his hips in a little harder too, hoping San can’t tell. But Wooyoung never stops for long.

Not when there’s a pool filled with alcohol to be found. 

Wooyoung intakes a mouthful of weak sake, spitting it toward San. San snags him by the cheeks, pressing in to squeeze it all out. 

The next time he does it, San catches him by the lips. He presses their lips together and Wooyoung melts, milky liquid flowing out the corners of his mouth, coating their chins, dripping down their necks. Yeosang can see the moment Wooyoung uses his tongue. He pushes it into San’s mouth, sake dripping off the tip. San catches it between his teeth, pulling, sucking on the tip. Wooyoung moans, captured. 

He couldn’t believe he was watching but he couldn’t look away.

“Shh, Woo. You need to remember this isn’t about you.”

Yeosang realizes he’s jealous.

San prompts them to leave and when he turns away, Yeosang is gifted the view of a sopping wet ass, practically transparent shorts leaving no curve to the imagination. Yeosang regrets not falling behind San before.

San plucks the penultimate carnation for him. It’s dangerously close to his member and he knows it’s totally visible now. San doesn’t mention it. He hands him the flower and leaves him to the quiet. 

The room is like a maze of stone carved benches and walls, each marbled with earthy veins in pink and mauve and cool jade green. He picks a hidden corner where a tiny relief is dug into the wall, just wide enough to house a fading white flower. Whispering into the petals, he exhales all the times he wishes he was more confident, more sexy, more seductive, more... _more._ He rubs it against the crest of his lips, memorizing the way the small, zigzag ridges slip into the natural ribs. He moves it to his face, swirling it over the planes like a powder puff, buffing in the assuredness he wants to believe he can have. 

He leaves it on the wall.

When he rounds the corner he realizes San isn’t there. Neither is Wooyoung. The pads of his feet slap the cool stone a bit faster, resort slippers long forgotten. He ends up at T-intersection, looking both ways to find nothing at either end. When he strains his ears all he picks up is the general hiss of cool steam simmering under the ground. 

Yeosang starts to panic. 

He runs. He turns corners and hits dead ends made of open circles lined with benches and towel racks coated in rose gold. He doubles back, retracing his steps. Everything looks identical like he’s never seen it before, the way the ground slopes and the walls curve in and the dimmed lighting makes it look like everything is shimmering and wet and made of galaxies and distance and he opens his mouth, trying to remember how to yell -

When he finds them.

They’re tucked into a dim corner, an LED waterscape streaming down the wall and painting them in rainbows. San’s holding Wooyoung from behind, palms slipped under the wrapped cloth. There’s movement at his chest. His inner thigh. San’s biting his neck, Wooyoung’s head falling to the side, eyes closed, mouth wide open.

_They’re yellow, orange._

San sees him. 

_Red._

He glances away, then back. Towards the waterfall, back. 

San catches him again. Again.

Yeosang is entranced. 

Again.

He wants to get caught.

San turns into Wooyoung, lowering his mouth to where neck meets shoulder. Suddenly San’s tongue is out. He presses it to the skin, wide and flat and wet, and he licks. Slowly, he slides it up, flicking off with a curl at the end of his tongue. Wooyoung’s body responds to San’s touch, quick and reassuring. He ripples underneath him, body pressing closer, head tilting further, writhing, begging to be touched. 

He watches as San wraps a hand around one of Wooyoung’s thighs, high enough so that when he flicks his thumb it grazes his cock. Wooyoung keens and he catches his breath. Yeosang watches as Wooyoung falls apart. He squeezes his thighs together and shifts, hands trying to lower the edge of the short, short slip over the incoming bulge. 

_Purple._ San notices. 

He drags his hand down to Wooyoung’s other thigh slowly. Wooyoung presses back into San’s crotch and San bites his neck and so, so slowly rocks his clothed hips back and forth, bouncing off Woo’s supple asscheeks. Wooyoung finally moves. He lifts both hands up, back over his shoulders, holding San’s mouth against him. He opens his eyes. 

Yeosang freezes. _Blue._

He whips around, turning in on himself.

“I like it when you watch, Sangie.” 

Yeosang won’t turn around. 

Wooyoung detaches from San, bending down to make Yeosang look at him. “Do you feel left out baby?” He coos softly, kneeling to kiss just above Yeosang’s knee. He blushes hard but he won’t retreat. Wooyoung looks up for approval, bringing his lips close. “Is this okay?” 

_Green._ Yeosang fingers the edge of his hem. One arm holds the other. 

Wooyoung waits, tilting his head. “Hmm?” 

Yeosang nods his head almost imperceptibly. From behind him, San’s voice pierces. “Yeosang.” He shivers and Wooyoung starts massaging his thigh, amused at the strong reaction to San’s tone. “If you want to be touched, you need to say so. If you don’t, you have to say that too.” Yeosang trembles. He squinches his eyes shut and says nothing. 

“Wooyoung,” San calls, quieter, “bite him.” 

Wooyoung does. He presses his canines into the flesh on the inside of the leg, just above the kneecap. Yeosang opens his mouth soundlessly, body jerking. Wooyoung smiles against him, soothing him with tiny licks. 

San restarts. “Yeosang.” 

He shivers again, feeling his legs start to tremble. Wooyoung holds them both, hands cupping his calves reassuringly. 

“For every second I count that you don’t choose an answer, Wooyoung is going to bite you.” Wooyoung makes a sound of approval, nuzzling into Yeosang’s inner thigh. He has to widen his stance ever so slightly. He wonders where San is, what he’s doing by himself, but there’s no chance he’s about to turn around. 

“One.” 

Wooyoung bites him happily. 

“Two.” He opens his jaw wider, dragging teeth against skin until he’s left with a pinch of flesh at the end. It stings. 

“Three.” Nip. 

“Four.” Sting.

“Five.” Wooyoung shifts and attaches himself near the tendon, mouth open wide to massage his teeth into the soft curve. 

Adhered, Wooyoung becomes a matrix of lips and teeth and taste buds and tongue, pulsing, lathing, making out with the inside of his thigh, and Wooyoung starts rocking his own hips where they sit on his curled thighs because he can’t help it either and so Yeosang moans. 

San tsks. Yeosang flushes at the disapproval, covering his eyes. “Six.”

Wooyoung moves higher, tilting to reach the groove at the inside of his thigh, the back of his head knocking Yeosang’s legs further apart. Yeosang has to put his hands down to balance, gripping onto Woo’s honey blonde hair. His mouth is level to Yeosang’s balls and he’s looking straight at them, he knows he is. He can feel them under Woo’s breath. Before San can even finish “seven” Yeosang’s dick twitches, bumping Wooyoung in the face. Wooyoung pulls back, aghast, smiling, looking up at Yeosang in amusement. 

“You dirty slut.”

Yeosang vibrates at San’s words, shaking in Wooyoung’s hold, barely standing. His dick twitches again. 

“I know you like it Sangie,” Wooyoung whispers, mouth dangerously close. “It’s okay. You’re allowed to want it. It’s not bad, baby. You can admit it if that’s what you need. We want to take care of you.” His gaze flickered down to Yeo’s length and back up again. “We want you.” 

Yeosang didn’t know what to do with his hands. 

“So tell me, Sangie. Is it okay if I touch you?” Yeosang nodded and San sent him a warning sound. Yeosang flinched and managed out a small, “y-yes.” 

Wooyoung hummed in appreciation. “And is it okay if San touches you?” Yeosang shut his eyes and tightened his grip on Woo’s hair. Wooyoung couldn’t help but moan at the tug, tightening his own grip on Yeosang’s hips. 

“Oh, you _really_ want San to touch you, don’t you baby.” 

Almost soundlessly, “yes.” 

Wooyoung glanced up and somehow San was right behind them. Yeosang shuddered as the entire back of his body brokered San’s hot skin. 

He gives in the second San’s long member presses up against his ass

He groaned, dropping his head onto San’s shoulder, hands pulling Wooyoung’s mouth to his balls, eliciting a surprised noise and a very eager Wooyoung, who immediately went to work concealing an entire ball with his tongue. Overexcited and weak from the steam, he couldn’t support himself anymore. San was quick to catch him, detaching Wooyoung and throwing Yeosang over his shoulder. He grabbed Wooyoung’s hand and navigated them out of the room like he could sense the north star. Yeosang felt small, so helplessly thrown over San’s shoulder, bouncing like a ragdoll. He gathered himself enough to look up at Wooyoung trailing along behind them gleefully, grinning ear to ear when Yeosang met his eyes.

“You’ve still got one flower left Sangie.”

He eyes the last tuft of white settled just on top of Yeosang’s perky butt like a fluffy bunny tail, stuck up in the air and wobbling side to side.

And then he hears a click and they’re back in their room.

He's deflowered. He takes the final carnation in his hand.

Gently, he lays Yeosang out on the bed, nothing but the mesh slip dress covering him, almost dry from how thin and airy it is. Wooyoung looks two seconds away from pouncing but must realize he’s still damp. He lifts a hand to release the knot, pulling one well placed tail, drawing the ends away from his body. Eventually the knot slips and the red, red twists unravel, burning patterns around Wooyoung’s torso like flames on spilled gasoline. 

He sees Wooyoung naked all the time - they’re roommates after all - but he’s never seen him quite like this. Taut. Exposed. Available, for him. He’s never been able to look. 

To want.

The material pools onto the floor. Wooyoung steps out of it. 

He sways the last few steps to the bed, pink, firm cock swaying between his thick thighs. He prowls up onto the edge of the mattress. Wooyoung kisses him as he swirls his hands under the edges of the mesh, tugging gently. Yeosang gives him what he wants. He raises his hips and Wooyoung is slipping the fabric over Yeosang’s head, sliding it up over his arms. They reconnect immediately. Wooyoung takes an end of the slip in each hand and slides it down Yeosang’s back. He yanks it towards him and Yeosang’s back arches forward, forcing the breath out of him. Wooyoung smirks, lowering the mesh and yanking again. This time, Yeosang’s hips fly forward and he falls back on the bed. Wooyoung is instantly on top of him, settling himself down just before Yeosang’s crotch. Yeosang blushes, hard, when Wooyoung sneaks a peek at his unadulterated package. Wooyoung is careful to leave his pelvis elevated when he stretches over Yeosang, reaching out above his head and wiggling his hips. The sheets bunch up where Wooyoung claws at them, the puckers rubbing against his cheeks from the proximity. Wooyoung pivots forward and presses his entire body down. Yeosang is blanketed by him, every inch hidden underneath. 

Suddenly, Wooyoung tenses and mewls on top of him. Yeosang notices the hand wrapped around his neck. He feels a hard poke against his abdomen.

The hand becomes the crook of an arm and he’s being lifted off.

Wooyoung moans. “Sannie…”

His cheeks are red and he’s desperately trying to push his ass back into San’s body. San is standing off the end of the bed, holding Wooyoung’s nakedness flush against him, elbow trapping Wooyoung’s neck, mouth tilted into his ear. He’s unmoving, just holding a dripping, wanting Wooyoung, small smile playing about his lips. 

He slips three fingers deep into Wooyoung’s throat. 

Wooyoung gags. He moans again.

“See, Yeosangie?” San kisses Wooyoung’s cheek. “Whenever Woo’s being annoying or mean or just a total brat, choke him a little. He submits every time. Oh look, he’s drooling.”

San beckons Yeosang closer. He sneaks up, slowly sliding his body next to Woo’s.

He watches Wooyoung’s pretty face, plump lips all glossy from spit and drool and San’s long fingers. He watches Wooyoung’s cheeks bulge out as he takes the digits from different angles, punctuated by stuttering wet sounds. He watches the way San watches Wooyoung, praising him in silence.

Finally, San turns. He brings his free hand up to Yeosang’s face to run the thumb along his lip, pressing in softly, once, twice. Yeosang bares his tongue. San only gives him the first knuckle. Yeosang’s brows furrow, glancing at his best friend who is sucking multiple fingers to the palm.

“Can you take that many baby boy? I think you need to practice first.”

San pushes in a little further, holding his chin to keep him still, pressing the pad down in the middle of his tongue. Yeosang coughed.

He looked back at Wooyoung, who met his eyes and bobbed his head back and forth, sliding his tongue between San’s fingers end to end.

Yeosang tried to copy him.

Sure. He wasn’t a virgin, but that didn’t mean he had a lot of experience, either.

San smirks, admiring the pretty boys trying to deepthroat either hand.

He pulls his fingers out abruptly, both of them complaining about the loss: Wooyoung loudly, Yeosang in the form of quiet huffs. He takes their hands quickly, urging them further onto the bed. 

Wooyoung beats him to it, settling in the middle and snagging one of Yeosang’s feet, giving it to San. “Here.” San catches on, pulling him forward by the ankle, notching it over his shoulder. Yeosang falls back but Wooyoung is there to catch him, holding him up by the shoulders. 

San kisses his foot. 

He kisses the tips of his toes, he kisses each tiny knuckle. He bites his ankle bones and the curve of his arch, tickling him, teeth nibbling into the soft, soft flesh. He works his way up Yeosang’s calf, nipping every few inches. He almost folds Yeosang in half to gain access to the back of his knee. It’s slick and hot where San licks it, sideways, straight along the bend. He bites there too and Yeosang shudders at the intimacy, exposing a part of his body that he didn’t know mattered. 

Yeosang, unwound, lets Wooyoung pin up his other leg and butterfly him open at San’s quiet request.

Yeosang knows he’s on display. He knows his dick’s growing stronger, redder, fuller by the second from the way Wooyoung licks his neck. He knows his asshole is squeezing tighter, making itself smaller as if to prove it’s worthwhile, as if San’s tensed thighs have something good to ache for. 

Wooyoung rolls them back onto the bed, practically hugging Yeosang’s curled body atop him, his own dick slowly rubbing against Yeosang’s back. 

San disappears from view. 

Then he’s licking Yeosang’s asshole. 

He’s licking it. With his tongue. 

San’s lying on his stomach, arms wrapped around Wooyoung's toned thighs, propped up on his elbows and eating Yeosang out. He’s licking and licking and nibbling the neat pink puckers, rubbing them against his teeth and his lips and his nose, kissing and eating and _eating_. Yeosang’s body is jolting and his penis is jumping and he’s moaning something or nothing and he doesn’t remember how to sing or spell or see.

Then San moves away and Yeosang whines, loud. Wooyoung bites him on the neck.

He can tell San moves down to Wooyoung, eating him out too, when Wooyoung’s back curves and his jaw clamps down harder. Yeosang listens to the low slurps, imagining the feeling as Wooyoung humps him from below. 

When San returns he sticks his tongue straight into Yeosang’s ass. He arches and Wooyoung does too, keeping him presented as he digs his nails into Wooyoung’s wrists. 

San moves a finger to Wooyoung’s mouth, swirling it around for good measure before pulling it out with a pop and inserting it straight into Yeosang’s butt.

Yeosang cries out and Wooyoung bites him again, sucking bruises against his throat. “Enjoy his fingers baby. They’re all you’re gonna get.”

“Wooyoung,” San scolds. “You will share.” Yeosang guesses the second San punishes him with a finger in the ass from the way Wooyoung throws his head back against the sheets. 

San’s double-fisting again, an asshole on each hand.

He adds another finger, then another.

The second the digits disappear Wooyoung flips him over. He kisses him, hard, until Yeosang’s too out of breath and his body’s too warm and he can’t keep up with Wooyoung’s ferocity. Then somehow San’s back and there’s a condom on his dick and one on Wooyoung’s too, and he doesn’t know when that happened or how or where they hid all the lube or why when Wooyoung slid into him it felt good good and little bit painful but he wanted it and he wanted him. 

San knelt behind Wooyoung and pushed inside. San pressed hard and deep and fast, the thunder of his thrusts oscillating through Wooyoung’s hips and into Yeosang too. 

He’d never felt his body this way. He never understood it so clearly - where his skin kept him contained, the way it got hot or how it could tingle, the way pain could bring out the same reaction as pleasure. He never understood how good skin on skin felt, the way it tugged across, the finest hairs tangling, the sandpaper of stubble rough, wanting, yearning. The way nails were so useful, so pretty, so made for clinging and marking and begging and claiming. He’d never understood how the soft smell of warm bodies, slightly wet, could make him want to sample and dine and binge. He wanted them in his mouth, in his hands, up his ass. He wanted them under him, on top of him, crushing him between them. So they were.

He became sex.

Shoved into the headboard, back broken, ass up, he came.

He doesn’t remember cleaning himself up, so someone else must’ve done it. He doesn’t remember the sweet, sweet affirmations against his ears but he remembers the way they felt. The way the two of them made him feel.

At some point he was being nudged around. They were trying to wake him.

“Sangie. Baby.”

“Yeobaby.”

Yeosang hummed.

San whispered in his ear. “Do you still have your flower?”

Yeosang cracked an eye. He looked down at his fist, long forgotten, opening it to find a crumpled flower. A few stray petals hung loose, the rest tamped down like the matted hair of a dog. 

Yeosang thought he might actually cry.

They must have seen it too. 

“Oh, well, make sure you leave something behind that you really want to forget this time, hmm? It’s the last one.”

Wooyoung guided him up, wrapping a fluffy white robe around his shoulders. They walked him to the balcony. 

He brought the carnation to his lips and blew, hard. The flower tumbled to the night sky, the lost petals fluttering down behind it. 

_He wanted to leave behind all the times he was rejected before._

_He wanted to reclaim the pieces of his heart that he had long since hidden away._

_He wanted to have them back so that maybe, just maybe, he could give them away again._

He turned to bury his face between them.

"Happy birthday, baby."

.:.:.:.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in three days so I know it's not ideal, but I would really love to know if you think I captured their voices well!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter, _baby._
> 
> [@Wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan)


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